


Light in Darkness

by marvelandimagine



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 08:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7677190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelandimagine/pseuds/marvelandimagine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vladimir x reader. He wakes up screaming from a nightmare about Utkin and you calm him down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light in Darkness

“Вы не можете меня сломать.”

You wake up with a start, unnerved by the rasping tone of your still-sleeping boyfriend. You were used to Vladimir’s mumbled sleep talking––it could even be cute at times; when you’d hear your murmured name and you’d tease him about it when he woke up.

But this isn’t like that. This sounded panicked, pleading––terrified. You sit up and moved closer to him, unnerved as you notice Vladimir’s shoulders shaking slightly; the pain that reads plainly on his scarred face. This isn’t normal.

“Пожалуйста, прекратите причинять ей боль, прекратить причинять ей боль, сделать ее не больно, мне так жаль!”

“Volodya?” You whisper concernedly, hesitantly placing your hand on his shoulder. You feel panic as well––you’ve never seen this happen to him before.

Your heart almost leaps out of your chest as he suddenly bolts upright, a tortured scream echoing around your bedroom and sending fear flooding through you:

Vladimir’s tattooed chest is heaving, his blue eyes wide and frantic before they rest on your wide-eyed countenance.

His mouth still agape as his breath comes in short spurts, he murmurs thickly; pulling you into his arms before you can speak.

“Y/N.”

Heart still pounding, you run a soothing hand through his disheveled blond hair as he whispers your name over and over, his arms so tightly around you that you have to gently push back so you can breathe.

You can still feel him shaking and you move your hand to his face, tracing your fingers over his jawline. You see a sheen of sweat glistening on his neck, thrown into focus by the moonlight.

“Vlad, hey, I’m right here, I’m right here, I’ve got you. What was that, are you alright?”

Try as he might to mask it in his body language – the way he shifts himself up and tenses his jaw – he can’t keep the pain out of his gaze.

“Just nightmare, котенок. Do not worry,” he mutters.

You shake your head as you tilt his head to turn toward you, the concern in your voice making Vladimir feel worse and better all at once.

“Vlad, you were freaking the fuck out in Russian and you woke up screaming. You’re still shaking-”

Vladimir reflexively flexes then clenches his palms into fists in an apparent defiance of his physical state, sighing deeply when you rub your hand on his bare shoulder.

“I can’t not be worried after seeing that.”

Vladimir doesn’t say anything, just brings one of his hands on top of yours, lacing his fingers through and squeezing.

You have your suspicions about what the nightmare was about, but you’re hesitant to ask. You know about the Siberian prison where he spent three years with Anatoly, where they escaped from, but you’ve never asked for details. The only other thing you knew was that that’s where he got his scar. And that scar, the way Vladimir’s voice changed the rare times when he even mentioned it—you knew it was a living hell in there.

You didn’t want to upset him further, but if he was having flashbacks, having nightmares about those memories, you wanted to be there for him.

Driven out of love and concern, you press on.

“Was it Utkin?” You ask quietly.

The stillness between you is only seconds, but it feels like ages before Vladimir makes a curt nod, releasing his hand from yours and wrapping it around to rest on the curve of your waist; bringing you in to lay against his side while his fingers make slow, even strokes on your skin.

You press your lips against his shoulder before continuing:

“You know I’m here if you want to talk.”

Vladimir doesn’t respond right away, he just continues to trace his fingers down your side; the feeling of your soft skin underneath him serving as a reminder that you’re ok, that you’re safe—that you’re safe with him, you want to be right here with him. God, he never thought someone like him could ever find someone that made him feel like you do. But here you are, real and alive and reaching out to help understand some of the darkest moments of his past.

Looking at you, a slight warmth works through his chest, slowly starting to dissipate the icy feeling there. He blinks rapidly before he kisses your forehead—the realness of his nightmare making him even more aware of how much he loves you. How much he trusts you.

“I was back in torture cell,” he starts slowly, your pulse quickening in nervous anticipation.

“It was just me, first. Usual beatings, broken glass. Lots of blood. They carved my face again. But that wasn’t worst part.”

You see him bite his lip, the glow of the moonlight in your room throwing his pale countenance into sharp relief. You reach up to stroke his hair soothingly and he relaxes under your touch, continuing on:

“Then it was Tolya. I watched them beat him, like dog. He asked me to help him and I couldn’t, couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything.” His voice wavers slightly but he continues to speak, your heart sinking as you wonder how much of his nightmare was rooted in truth.

“Then … he was gone. But then, it was you. There was so much blood … you looked dead. And I couldn’t stop it, stop them cutting into you. Couldn’t stop your screaming …” His voice breaks again and you gaze up sadly; the misery on his countenance now as plain as the single tear falling from his bright blue eye.

You’ve never seen him cry before.

You move your head off his shoulder, shifting your body so that your chests touch and pull him into a tight embrace that he returns; your own eyes filling with tears as he speaks in a tone uncharacteristically quiet and racked with suffering.

“I thought … I let you die.”

You pull back only to crash your lips against his and he savors how good you feel, the softness of your skin a sharp contrast to your mutilated body that played over and over in his head. You’re real, you’re here. You’re still with him.

You break apart, planting one kiss against his stubbled jawline before you wrap one hand around the nape of his neck; the other gently moving to his cheek and wiping the sole tear track away. You know this is so hard for him, to let people in, to feel vulnerable. 

“I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for a long, long time, OK?” You add with a small smile, fighting to keep your own voice even as Vladimir’s intense gaze meets yours. It steadies as you continue:

“I’m safe, Toly’s safe, and so are you, mой король. You’re never going back to Utkin. You’re here with me, together. I know you’d die before you ever let anything happen to me. I know I’m safe with you, always.”

Vladimir’s hard expression melts at your words, cradling your face in his hands before he brings his lips to yours; his kiss deep and tender and full of gratitude. He pulls back, forehead against yours, as he speaks:

“I love you more than anything, красива.”

“I know, I’m glad. I love you too, so much.”

You kiss him gently and lay down, looking up at him.

“Do you want to try to sleep or no?”

Vladimir nods, the way he looks at you eliciting a contented exhale from your lungs.

“Only if you stay right here.” He lays down and motions for you to lay on his chest, and you happily oblige; snuggling into the warmth of his skin.

“Y/N?”

Vladimir’s accent is thicker than usual, emotion seeping in. You hum your response against his skin:

“Mhm?”

“Thank you.”

You smile softly, kissing one of the scars on his chest as you murmur back, the love in your voice the perfect lullaby for Vladimir:

“Always, Volodya.”

Translations:

-Вы не можете меня сломать: “You can not break me”

-Пожалуйста , прекратите причинять ей боль , прекратить причинять ей боль , сделать ее не больно , мне так жаль: “Please, stop hurting her, stop hurting her, don’t hurt her, I’m so sorry”


End file.
